


A rival suitor

by Howling_Harpy



Series: Eyes of the beholder [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Gen, Jealousy, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26049304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Howling_Harpy/pseuds/Howling_Harpy
Summary: Ron is suspicious of Lipton's close friend who takes care of him when Ron himself can't catch a chance.
Relationships: Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs
Series: Eyes of the beholder [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890967
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33





	A rival suitor

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first work in the series of outsider PoV fics I wrote based on prompts I got on Tumblr. Of course I started with the speirton one. Please enjoy.
> 
> *
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction based on the HBO's drama series and the actors' portrayals in it. This has nothing to do with any real person represented in the series and means no disrespect.

First Sergeant Lipton had been sick for a while and his rattling cough had kept Ron on edge just as long. Pneumonia, they had said. Something about disease scared Ron in a way that gunfire and artillery never could. Something about an invisible thing in the air that got inside you, weakened you and then slowly took you without giving you a chance to fight made him feel desperate and helpless, which in turn enraged him and he didn’t know what to do with that.

All he could do was to carry Lipton presents and hope some of it helped. Soup, coffee, blankets… Things to desperately throw at an illness. They had only just met, and Ron couldn’t stomach the idea that this might be it.

He had initially worried about how his gestures would come across, but when he found that he couldn’t make them in the first place, he cursed himself for worrying. Of course Lipton was never alone, and even though Ron had a talent to find the rarest things no matter how well hidden, Lipton alone was proving impossible even for him.

When they were finally being hauled back to Haguenau, Ron gave in to yet another thing he had sworn to never do, and stole from Americans. Crossing that line pained him the least of all the lines he had crossed; the regimental staff wouldn’t miss one package of coffee, and his purposes for it were more honourable than anything they were planning anyway. Brewing a pot of real coffee and not that dirt water they were used to made him feel warm down to the roots of his heart, and that same warmth was in his hands when he carried his offering to his First Sergeant. 

Lipton was spending the night in a vacant house, one of the many their battalion had taken over for the night, and since everyone else was busy setting up camp while the sick man rested, Ron thought he had picked the perfect time.

But as soon as he stepped into the house, he could hear two voices from the large living-room the second platoon had spread their sleeping bags in. Ron froze on the threshold in the hallway, the hot mug sheltered in his hands, and suddenly felt silly. He stood still without announcing his presence and listened.

“ – and that’s all the pillows I was able to find. You good? I’m sorry there’s no beds here.”

Ron grimaced at his own oversight. He recognized the voice of the radioman. He should have known, he seemed to be a friend of Lipton’s and a close one at that. He was not only a Toccoa man but a foxhole buddy from Bastogne, and Ron had noticed him taking the seat next to Lipton every time they were on the move. 

“It’s alright, I’ll be fine,” came Lipton’s frighteningly raspy and weak voice. He sounded exhausted, nothing like the chipper, brave front he put on for Ron, and Ron gripped the mug that much tighter. 

“No, you’re not, but I appreciate the attitude, Lip,” the radioman – Luz, Ron remembered – answered, the nickname falling easily from his lips. “If you get cold at night, just holler and I’ll be your sleeping buddy. I don’t kick or nothing, and I bet I’m the perfect size to be your teddy bear.”

Lipton’s laugh had a spark of genuine joy in it, and Ron turned on his heel and stormed out of the house.

He spotted them again in the morning when they were loading the trucks and climbing aboard, ready to get back on the road. Ron sought them out from the crowd, and sure enough saw George Luz carrying Lipton’s pack for him and throwing it up on the back of the truck with remarkable ease despite his size. Ron had to scold himself again for underestimating the man, a Toccoa paratrooper, and then turned his eyes away before he had to look that scruffy little man take Lipton’s hand to help him up.

At Haguenau they received an order to set up camp and as the company commander Ron was kept busy for hours with briefing his platoon leaders, setting up the CP and then circling back to inspect the work of the lieutenants. 

He wasn’t about to slack off with his duties as the company C.O., so he had no choice but to watch how Luz led Lipton in to the building chosen for company CP and then hurry to do his own job.

What Ron did succeed in was breaking his personal record in briefing, which meant he had time to explore. With a dark satisfaction he knew that Luz was busy setting up his radio equipment and organizing with the runners and others tending to their communication, so he got to be the first one to search the upper floors of the building and discover the priceless treasure.

A bedroom. It was messy but intact. He sat on the mattress and found it perfect, pleasantly firm and not too soft like they often were in England, and on the bed were two lovely feather-filled pillows. It was almost too good to be true, and even more so when Ron found a linen closet with fresh sheets in it. For a moment he put his hand on top of the neatly folded linens like he couldn’t quite believe they were real, and then on the next he hurried to pull them out of the closet so that he could make the bed.

He put fresh sheets on the bed and pillowcases on the pillows, and for some reason he couldn’t explain even to himself left his work just a bit untidy instead of military crisp. Homely, almost.

Of course Lipton was still trying to work when Ron made his way back downstairs, and he felt an awful tug somewhere in his gut when he watched Luz throw a blanket on Lipton where he rested on the couch. But despite that painful little twist, Ron was satisfied with himself.

He didn’t even bother to concentrate on the new-comer Lipton was trying to introduce to him when he got his opportunity to present his gift and scoffed: “Listen, for chrissake, will you go back in back and sack out? There are some beds back there with fresh sheets!”

“I will, sir,” Lipton replied softly, pale and sweaty under the blanket that Luz had brought. Ron circled the room and easily found his way to the couch and leaned over its side to talk to Lipton like they were the only two people in the room. He gazed at the blanket, its worn wool and how thin it was, and knew he had won.


End file.
